Upon arriving to the prison, Carl noted the vehicle rolling up that Nora had left in. "She's back!" Carl shouted from the watch tower to the others below. Glenn and Jose glanced up from their position by the far end of the Yard and exchanged looks before they quickly rushed toward the fences to open them.

As the car drove through they noted a person in the passenger's seat and assumed it would have been Daryl, but as they approached the parked vehicle they soon realized otherwise.

Merle opened his car door and stepped out of the vehicle which caused the asian boy to freeze in his position. His expression hardened in disbelief. "Merle?!" He sounded like he was seeing a ghost; and this particular ghost was one he had hoped he would never have to see again. "What is he doing here?!"

Jose looked between the two ex-group members confused. "Who is this cabron?" He questioned, moving to settle his eyes upon Merle.

"Easy tiger." Merle held a hand out toward the asian.

Glenn's chest suddenly tightened as he shifted his attention upon Nora. "Daryl? Where's Daryl?!" Worry was drenched in his voice as his feet began to swiftly move him toward the Irish woman. He half expected to hear those dreadful words. The words that carried the bad news that Daryl had not made it; that their Redneck Saint had been killed.

"Y'ever show that kinda concern for me when ya left my ass on th'roof?" Merle's tone held resentment as he spoke bitterly to the boy before he made his way over to the side door. "Don't get yah panties in a twist, ya boyfriend's alive." He moved his left hand toward the handle and pulled it open to reveal a bloodied and unconscious Daryl laid out on the backseat.

Merle's sarcastic nature was quickly forgotten as the sight of Daryl's neglected body came into view. "Oh god." Glenn breathed, his expression faltering. "Daryl..." The asian boy swallowed hard.

Nora grunted as she got out of the car. The pressure on her injured shoulder was almost too much to bear and with all of the action taken in their escape, she'd lost a fair amount of blood. As such, she wasn't really prepared for the bombardment of questions regarding Daryl Dixon's well-being. Her Beastie was safe... for now. That's all she could've hoped to accomplish, whether he hated her by the next day or not.

"Data, it's fine. Would ye stop yer fussin' an' 'elp Merle out, please?" She noted Glenn's wariness in helping the one man who caused nothing but trouble for them on the roof that day, but she didn't care. She wanted to get inside, make sure Daryl was okay, stitch herself up and go to sleep. Optimism was still haunting her, not letting her believe that the man she now knew she held a deep love for had the possibility of death looming over him.

He was strong. He would be okay because he had to.

"Let's just get 'im inside." She seethed, righting her weapons and beginning to carry everything inside as Glenn moved to help Merle hesitantly.

Jose stepped in. "Nah, Glenn. Help Irish." He interjected, getting the gist of the animosity between the two males as he aided Merle in hoisting Daryl's limp frame.

Glenn paused, then wandered over to Nora, picking up some of the items she'd been struggling with.

"C'mon."

As Jose and Merle stumbled through the door the Mexican gave directions toward the infirmary. The two men dragged the unconscious Redneck toward the medical room. When they arrived they laid the man out on the bed, just as Rick and the others came in to join.

Rick was seen marching his way up to them. A serious expression twisted itself upon the Sheriff's features as his eyes fell upon the beaten Redneck that appeared lifeless upon the bed. He had barely had time to register the fact that Merle was there. Overcome by his own concerns for his comrade, Rick's quickened steps brought him to Daryl's bedside where he then silently nodded for Maggie to get to work. The eldest Greene swiftly moved to begin looking the Redneck over.

The Sheriff lifted a hand to wipe at his face worriedly as he stared into the bruised and swollen mess that had become Daryl's face. "Is it as bad as it looks?" He questioned, hardly able to take his eyes off of the Redneck. Almost his entire upper half had been drenched and stained in his own blood.

After several long moments of examining him, Maggie started to respond. "He might have several fractures in his face...A bullet wound here," she gestured over his right arm where one of the men had shot him. "But...I'm worried." Maggie's eyes lifted to meet Rick's, who gave her a questioning brow. "...He busted his head and he's still bleeding from it...He's lost a lot of blood. There's no tellin' what kinda damage his brain might'a taken..."

A look of fear crossed his features as he swallowed hard. His expression went stony and his throat tightened.

Merle, who had gone quiet, suddenly cleared his throat. His whole demeanor changed as his typical asshole-attitude was replaced with genuine concern for his baby brother's well-being. "He's...he's gonna pull through though, right?" The sound of a choke could faintly be heard as he added, "M'baby bruther's tough! Ain't no way he's gonna die!"

Maggie gazed upon the eldest Dixon morosely. "I'm sorry..." She pressed her lips together lightly as she reluctantly added, "but...even if he does pull through..." Her attention returned to Rick, who appeared to be holding his breath as he braced himself. "He might not wake up..."

After a long, drawn out pause the Officer slowly nodded his head and turned away. His head lowered and his hand clamped around his mouth as he tried to swallow down the information that had been given to him.

Merle on the other hand appeared stunned by this. His mouth was slightly ajar as he processed the words that had been spoken. Daryl might not wake up? His little brother had a slim chance of survival and even if he did make it, he might be in a coma? The older Dixon stumbled forward to bring himself closer to his brother's bedside. His lips pulled together as he tried to hide the fact that he was so broken-up over the matter. He could talk a big game, but when it came down to it, that's all he was: talk. In reality Merle was just as lost and broken as his baby brother had been before the group. And truth of the matter was, he loved his little brother more than anything and had tried his best to keep him safe. He had already come to terms with losing his brother once and miraculously they found each other. He didn't think he could handle losing him a second time.

Maggie frowned as she turned to start her task in cleaning the Redneck up. Glenn placed his hand on Carl's shoulder and gave it a squeeze as the two stared from a distance at the Hunter. "Shouldn't someone tell Carol...?" Carl began to ask, as he looked up to the asian boy behind him and then to his father.

"Let Maggie finish cleaning him..." Glenn suggested. He felt that it would frighten the woman to see Daryl in his current condition.

Lenora froze at the news. Might not... wake up? No. That couldn't happen. That wouldn't happen.

But she remained tight-lipped and distant, shuffling back to allow Merle to move through the crowd and join his baby brother at his side. Her heart sunk low, dipping directly into her shoes with a hard 'thump'. Then it continued to hammer so loudly in her head that yet another migraine began to creep into her skull.

Still, her eyes never moved from the bloodied Redneck. She couldn't blink. She couldn't think... she couldn't fucking breathe. All the people she'd cut down just to get to him, all the turmoil she'd faced, the orders she'd defied... and he still had the chance of not making it through the night. Against her will, a single tear, thick and welled with sorrow, trekked from her eye and slid along her cheek.

"Can I talk to you?" Rick inquired as he turned to Nora, though he was really telling more than he was asking.

Rick walked outside of the infirmary and began to pace down the hall a little bit as he waited. He wiped his hand along his face thoughtfully as he paused in his steps. His back was to the Irish woman as he stood.